See You In The Morning
by ThePurpleRose
Summary: Years on from the events of Symphonia, the tree is grown and Yuan and Kratos no longer have any reason to stay awake.


**AN: Proof that I have not dropped from the planet. I am working on things. I'm just slow. So here's a little snippet of a one-shot to make of for my absence. I've spent a fair amount of time over in tumblr, trying to understand characters better, and this sort of came out along the way to understanding Yuan. Someone told me I should share this here as well, so I thought, why not?**

**I hope you like it.**

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The human and the half-elf sat beneath the tree they had once protected, Yuan by designation, Kratos by proxy. There was a stillness about them that seemed to calm the gentle breeze that touched each of their faces. It was a warm day in spring and Yuan's cape had been relegated to the job of blanket.

As they sat, hair that once was auburn tickled Yuan's cheek, the ghost of breath still tingling in the nape of his neck. A very familiar weight had settled on his shoulder and his arm was wrapped around the familiar curve of a human form. Forgotten at their feet sat a half-finished flask of tea, the scent of nibbled treats still mingling with that of their tree in the air. The wastage went unnoticed, one of the pair too deep in slumber to realise, the other simply not wanting for anything, cocooned in appreciation for this moment.

Yuan looked down at the hand that rested in his free palm, a blend of hard work and age marking the skin touching his. Kratos' skin was coarser than his own. His own seemed to have softened as it had loosened, yet the leathery feel of old man's hands was all Yuan could imagine fitting Kratos now. Age suited the man, as though in catching Yuan up, he had finally grown into his years.

The half-elf could not resist running his thumb across those knuckles, affirming his memory of how they felt, as though this precious time could be kept safe with the feeling of Kratos' hand in his. Gently, he squeezed it, not hard enough to wake his sleeping companion, just enough to say, 'I'm still here.' And satisfied he had not disturbed the aged human's slumber, he sighed, looked up through the branches of the New World Tree and smiled.

Smiled because this tree was the culmination of all of those years of dreaming, suffering and striving. Smiled because it was over – this tree no longer needed them. This world no longer needed them. Smiled because the sun still shone through the leaves above them, dappling Kratos' still legs and warming them through the fabric of their clothes.

Because Kratos would like it here. With the sun streaming through the leaves, the wind like the hands of their lost companions smoothing their hair, soothing away their troubles. With his eyes closed, Kratos might have been anywhere, he might almost have been back home.

No that was exactly where he was. They were going home.

Careful not to dislodge his human, Yuan tilted his head down, taking in the lines on the other man's face. He noted them carefully as if capturing this moment mattered, and he had to capture it exactly as it was, capture Kratos exactly as he had turned out. The grey hair, never quite faded, never as bright as Yuan's pure white. The crow's feet in place of the laughter lines they might have been known as had he died a human friend of half-elves all those years ago, a happy man who had done his duty.

Kratos' pale lips were parted slightly in sleep, his face lax. He could only be described as peaceful, every bit the calm, patient man he became. There was one thing missing, just one thing that would make this moment complete: the smile Yuan would never be able to forget. The smile he knew his friend would be wearing the next time they met according to the human's beliefs.

"You are home, aren't you, old friend?"

His voice was quiet, his words ruffling Kratos' hair. He paused to take a last look at the face he had seen so many times but never truly looked at, and would never have the chance to again. His eyes didn't linger long. That face had changed to this before his eyes and remained behind them always. This was not a goodbye, it was a goodnight. It was...

"I'll see you in the morning."

It was no grand gesture, no great farewell. Yuan said nothing more to his companion of so many years, loosed no tears into his hair as he would have once. Instead, he closed his eyes slowly and allowed the world around them to fade to the same greys they had before ceasing to see it at all. He pulled Kratos closer and, nestled against him, he slowly slipped away.

Two old men, a human and a half-elf, taking a nap after a picnic on a sunny spring day.

Two old men, home, together, at last.

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**AN: When I wrote this, it was intended to be Yuan's ideal ending, not having to live on without Kratos and die alone after all those years. I'm not sure I really succeeded in what I intended to do but there it is. It isn't the sort of thing I usually write, but it's out there now.**

**Thanks very much for reading if you made it this far. And if you'd like to offer any comments or constructive criticism, it's very much appreciated.**


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